


Knight in Shining Armour

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Boys In Love, Confused Merlin (Merlin), Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Crack Relationships, F/M, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Innuendo, Knight Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Pining Arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Merlin and Gwen go to save the King and his Knights, but Arthur's more concerned with the fact that Merlin's wearing armour.
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 226





	1. Armour

‘What in God’s name are you _wearing?!_ ’ Arthur choked out, forgetting the fact he was chained up in some rusty cell, staring at his Court Sorcerer in shock.

Merlin blinked, looking down to the armour, then glanced back up.

‘Oh, right, Gwen wouldn’t let me come if I didn’t wear armour.’

Logically, Arthur knew that his friend had a point. Merlin did run into trouble, so Gwen’s stipulation of him wearing armour would make him a lot safer.

But it was Merlin. In _armour_.

It took a singular breath for Arthur’s breeches to become uncomfortable, a further moment for him to process the fact that Merlin was about to _bend over_ to unchain them, with the Magic that Arthur found so strangely intoxicating. For someone raised to hate it, when Merlin’s eyes turned golden, he didn’t find himself reaching for his sword.

Not Excalibur, anyway.

‘Get them out first.’ He grunted, as Merlin unlocked the cell with nothing more than a glance. Merlin frowned, but obeyed, something that really didn’t help his situation.

From the way his Knights were grinning, they knew exactly _why_ Merlin couldn’t help.

It was a strange role-reversal, them in normal clothes while Merlin walked around in shiny metal, which fitted him rather well. He wasn’t the gangly boy that Arthur had first met, but a tall, lithe figure with muscle that he _knew_ could rival the strength of a Knight.

‘What about the bandits?’ Lancelot inquired, clearly nervous for Gwen’s safety.

‘Mostly dealt with, Gwen’s up there now, but she’s safe.’ Merlin reached for him, looking rather dazzling in chainmail and platelet armour, the red cape of Camelot around his shoulders. The chains around his wrists melted, Merlin offering him a hand that he denied, turning slightly so that Merlin had no reason to see that his breeches were tented.

Instead, he gifted Leon with an eyeful, who dutifully looked away while Gwaine sniggered.

‘Right, we should be going…’

‘We’ll catch you up.’ Arthur snapped, his Court Sorcerer rolling his eyes but disappearing back up the path.

‘Oh, Merlin, you look so handsome in your…’ He shoved Gwaine back into the wall, while Leon stepped smoothly in between them.

‘Sire, might I suggest going to support Merlin and Guinevere.’

‘Not a word of this.’

‘Of course not.’ They were laughing at him, the idiots. Arthur rolled his eyes, looking to the broken doorway.

‘Need a minute with your hand?’ Gwaine teased, dodging his second blow.

**

‘Are they all okay?’ Gwen asked, straightening up as she spotted Merlin returning. She had to admit, he did look rather handsome dressed as a Knight, she’d made a very good decision in telling him to wear it.

‘Arthur’s acting weird.’ Definitely a good decision. She could only imagine the priceless look on the King’s face, the utter confusion mixed with awe at the Court Sorcerer, the man that Arthur was pining after silently.

Well, not silently. She’d had the unfortunate luck of walking into his Chambers once without knocking.

‘Is he injured?’ She inquired, knowing Merlin wouldn’t be here if he was. Un-belting Excalibur from her hip, the sword they’d tracked down before finding Arthur and the Knights, she offered it out to Merlin.

Surprisingly, he managed to buckle it with precision, drawing the blade from his hip and looking to where the remaining voices were shouting. There weren’t many left, and Gwen knew he was more than capable of handling them. After all, he’d been practicing with Morgana, the two of them meeting up outside of Camelot’s walls at night.

‘Just moody that I’m wearing a Knight’s clothes.’ For all Arthur’s blindspots, Merlin was just as oblivious.

A bandit came charging, Gwen ready to reach for the second blade, but Merlin was prepared. He rose Excalibur, blocking the swing from the large-hunk of muscle charging.

She stepped back, looking across to where the Knights were emerging, dressed in common clothing. Going to Elyan first, she embraced him quickly, before smiling to Lancelot.

‘I’m glad you’re okay.’ She stated, flicking her smile between them.

Arthur didn’t bother looking away from Merlin, who disarmed the man with an ease that Gwen envied.

‘What?’ Merlin looked to the King, Arthur’s mouth dropping open, before shutting.

‘Is it because I’m holding your sword?’ Gwaine looked ready to passout from the breath he was holding, even the noble Sir Leon was trying not to smile.

‘My… what?’

‘Did you get hit on the head? How many fingers am I holding up?’ Merlin came across, sliding Excalibur back into her sheath as he came to a stop in front of the King.

‘I didn’t hit my head!’ He sounded like a petulant child, but Merlin was undeterred, eyes turning gold as he studied Arthur.

Guinevere caught Gwaine’s eye, who nodded towards the King’s groin. Really, she didn’t need to look, she could tell that Merlin’s Magic affected him.

It was obvious, from the utter helplessness on his face.

‘You probably just need rest. Come on, let’s get you back to Camelot so you can go to bed.’ Merlin stalked back in the direction of the bandits, pausing before losing cover.

He looked back at her, waiting, and Gwen reached for her own blade.

‘Need help?’ Lancelot asked. Honestly, he was far too sweet, never trying to take away her own abilities to wield a sword.

‘We’ve got this, the horses are tied just past the rubble.’ He gave her a charming smile, Elyan nodding to her, before the two of them urged the King to move.

It probably didn’t help that Merlin was back to fighting.

By the time she’d disarmed the three men halting the path to the horses, Arthur had snapped from his daydream. Untying the ropes, the horses were counted, and Guinevere smiled when the King turned to her.

‘There’s six horses.’

‘Sorry, Sire. We couldn’t bring anymore. But I’ll share with Lancelot,’ He was quick to incline his head in agreement, and she fought the blush that came to her cheeks, ‘And your mare is perfectly capable of carrying you and Merlin.’ Strategically, she was unstoppable.

Arthur’s eyes widened, terror crossing his face as he looked to where Merlin was heading in their direction.

His cape caught the wind, rather dramatic as he strode towards them, flushed and smiling with Excalibur in hand, eyes still golden.

‘We all good?’

‘Just telling Arthur the riding plans.’ Merlin sheathed the sword once again, gesturing for Arthur to mount.

‘I’ll ride behind.’

Guinevere pretended not to notice Gwaine’s wiggling eyebrows, turning to where Lancelot had already mounted, hand held out.

She settled behind him, let her hands loop around his waist comfortably. They had ridden like this on many occasions, so she was more than happy to be here.

When she looked to Arthur’s mare, Llamrei, it was to a very funny sight. Arthur, sitting rigid in the saddle, hands gripping the reins like he might die if he loosened his grip. Behind him, Merlin was chatting away, one hand loosely resting on Arthur’s hip, the other on Excalibur.

Still oblivious to Arthur’s panic, she mused, nudging Lancelot to guide them closer to Gwaine’s gelding.

‘Ten coins says the Princess has to stop before we get back.’ Gwaine murmured, Lancelot frowning at the two of them, but she could see the smile tugging at his lips.

‘Twenty says he makes it till midday.’ Leon inputted, before pushing past to ride by the King’s side.

Guinevere paused, glancing to her best friend and the King, before looking back to Gwaine.

‘Ten coins to Arthur undressing Merlin from the armour.’

‘You’re on.’


	2. Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's snappy, Arthur's pining

Arthur was seriously contemplating murder.

‘Can you sit _still?_ ’ He hissed, Merlin huffing hot air down the back of his neck, but falling still. The hand on his thigh tensed, before retreating back slightly.

‘What’s got you in a foul mood?’ The Knights were dutifully pretending they had absolutely no idea why Arthur was considering falling from his horse, if only to get away from Merlin for just the smallest of moments.

‘You.’ He bit out, Merlin snorting.

‘Can your ego not take being rescued?’ Oh, it wasn’t his ego that was the problem. It was the fact that Merlin’s hand was _inches_ from where Arthur’s groin, something that needed to stay that way, otherwise…

‘Shut up, Merlin.’ The Warlock clicked his tongue, teasing, and Arthur wondered if they’d ever make it to Camelot at this rate.

He’d insisted on walking, for fear of what would happen if Merlin had to wrap arms around his waist.

‘You know, if you want to pretend you magically escaped by yourself, we can have it your way.’ Only Merlin would dare to continue talking to him like that, Arthur thought.

‘I’m going to push you off this horse.’ He told him, very matter-of-factly.

‘Don’t lie, you love my chatter.’ Merlin then turned his attention to Gwaine, entertaining the rebellious Knight, while Arthur thought about the words.

He did love Merlin’s chatter. But it was that word, love, that had his heart clenching.

He was still the King of Camelot. His attraction to Merlin, whatever his heart felt, it didn’t matter. Duty told him he had to marry a beautiful, noble woman, to make her Queen so that he could provide the Kingdom with an heir.

Not inviting a smart-mouthed, insolent Warlock into his bed.

How best to overcome his attraction to his manservant? He pondered on that, gritting his teeth as the Warlock relaxed against him.

Eventually, Merlin would find someone else. Or he could take the initiative, perhaps invite Mithian back to Camelot and see if she was willing to give their courtship a chance.

‘We should stop here for the evening.’ Arthur decided, tugging on the reins gently and ignoring the fact that Merlin slid off the horse almost instantly.

**

Something was wrong with Arthur.

Merlin wondered if it genuinely was the fact that he’d saved the King and his Knights, before pushing past that. He knew Arthur struggled to show his emotions, especially in front of others, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that the King was lashing out.

He avoided Arthur while setting up camp, working on getting the fire burning, and then tending to the horses. By this point, his armour was becoming uncomfortable, but for some reason, Guinevere hadn’t offered to help him take it off.

Was he supposed to stay in it overnight, like a Knight would? He huffed, stroking a hand down Llamrei’s flank, wondering what had made Arthur so upset. It probably wasn’t his Magic, that had settled down a while ago.

He then had to come to the conclusion that his concern for Arthur was above what a Court Sorcerer should _feel,_ and that had him feeling guilty. Honestly, he wasn’t sure when the line blurred, when Merlin’s heart started to view Arthur as more than just a friend. It didn’t matter, because Arthur was quite clearly uninterested, so Merlin could keep his feelings a secret.

He blamed thoughts of Arthur for his distraction, not noticing the small group of people until Arthur alerted him, Guinevere raising a sword menacingly as they stumbled out from the darkness.

‘We come in peace! Forgive the intrusion, we simply can’t get a fire to light,’ That was relatable, Merlin _still_ had to use his Magic to do so, ‘and we smelt food.’

Arthur looked ready to deny them, the prat. The four men were clearly starving, wearing scraps for clothing and only one of them having any form of weapon.

‘Come and sit down, there’s plenty to go around.’ Merlin welcomed them in, sending Arthur a scowl as he opened his mouth to argue.

‘You’re too kind.’ One of them stated, bowing his head and hesitantly stepping towards the warmth.

‘What do they call you, then?’ A second said, grinning at Merlin in much the same way that Gwaine had, when they’d first met.

‘Merlin.’ He was surprised when the man offered out a hand, but accepted it, only for it to be brought to the man’s lips.

‘Johnathan, Although, you can call me whatever you’d like, Merlin.’

Flirting. He was being flirted with.

He could have laughed, quite unused to the attention. Nobody really bothered to flirt with him, apart from Gwaine.

‘Quit bothering the host.’ One of the others shot, Johnathan retreating back but smiling warmly.

Well, Merlin wasn’t going to _deny_ them, certainly not when they seemed to be a lot more happy to have Merlin’s company than a prattish King.

It didn’t take long for them to settle into the group, talking with the Knights as they discussed how they were travelling North. Merlin watched the way Arthur moodily ate his stew, before glaring at the intruders from the other side of the fire.

‘Is there a stream nearby?’

‘Just over the ridge.’ Leon gestured in the direction, Johnathan standing up slowly and stretching.

‘Fancy accompanying me?’ Merlin blinked owlishly, fully aware of what that mischievous grin meant.

He wasn’t picky when it came to attraction. Men, women, nobles to commoners. Johnathan was slightly too tall, with darker hair but eyes the right colour, so Merlin supposed he wasn’t actually awful to look at.

Plus, it meant he didn’t have to sit and stare at the King, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

‘Sure.’ He accepted the hand up, laughed when the man tucked it through his arm and boldly walked in the direction that Leon had pointed them in.

**

‘So, grumpy’s yours?’

‘Grumpy?’ Merlin questioned, drying off his face and looking over to his friend.

‘The blond one.’

‘Arthur? No, no he’s not mine. We… I was once his servant.’ He wasn’t sure why he told the man the truth, watched as Johnathan laughed, before sobering up.

‘You’re serious?’

‘He’s just my friend.’ Merlin assured, but the man simply snorted.

‘Not with the look of jealousy I got, mate.’ He reminded him of Gwaine. Maybe a little less refined, but otherwise pretty similar.

Thankfully, Merlin already had one Gwaine, he didn’t need a second.

‘I’m sure you’re mistaken.’ Johnathan rolled his eyes, but a fond smile crossed his face.

‘Whatever you say, Merlin.’ He then paused, looking to where Merlin was trying to unbuckle the armour.

‘Need a hand?’

Finally, someone had offered. The relief must have shown on his face, because the man was quick to assist, stripping the buckles and gripping the chainmail, while Merlin groaned in relief at finally being free.

‘Gods, that felt good.’

‘Least effort I’ve ever had to put in.’ The man joked, Merlin chuckling as he rolled his shoulders back.

‘Thank you.’

‘I should be saying that to you. I’ve not eaten stew like that in weeks!’ Would this be what it was like, to have friends that weren’t nobles? Merlin found himself wondering, before shutting the thought down quickly.

He was happy where he was, even if it was silently pining over the King of Camelot.

‘You know, we should be getting going. The border’s not far.’

**

Arthur’s mood soured, the moment Merlin returned to the Camp.

An _undressed_ Merlin, laughing as the man beside him dropped the armour down, the two clearly deep in conversation.

‘Sadly, we should be getting going.’ Jacob, John, whatever his name had been said. Arthur grinned, but Leon thumped his arm, letting him know he was being too obvious.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the night?’ Merlin inquired, chucking a log onto the fire as he spoke.

If that man stayed, Arthur was going to throttle him.

‘A very kind offer,’ He winked, which made Merlin’s cheeks darken, ‘But alas, we have places to be.’ The others had been quiet, Arthur supposed, barely noticing them standing to leave.

‘Should we meet again, sweet Merlin,’ Excalibur was tempting, ‘I expect to be proven right on my theory.’ Merlin rolled his eyes, in a look usually reserved for Arthur, before waving him off.

With the four men gone, Arthur was free to scowl at Merlin again, watching the Warlock stoke up the fire.

‘Johnathan seemed… nice.’ Guinevere flicked her gaze to Arthur, before looking back to Merlin.

‘Reminds me of you, Gwaine.’ Merlin teased, while the Knight looked offended.

‘Does he have dashingly good looks, or smooth hair?’ The others joined in the laughter, but Arthur’s temper hadn’t settled yet.

‘What’s got you scowling again?’ The Warlock dared to ask, the King sitting back against the tree.

‘Nothing. Just wondering why you didn’t go with him, if he’s so perfect.’ Several heads snapped to him, eyes wide as they processed his words.

Oh, Arthur was so screwed.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were in control of who I spent my life with.’ Merlin shot back, anger quickly overtaking concern.

‘None of my business, but it’s your reputation at stake when you go off with… men in the forest.’ Gwen was probably going to hit him, later. Her anger was terrifying, as was Gwaine’s, both aimed at him as Merlin rose his head from where he was prodding the fire.

‘That’s rich, coming from _you_.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He hissed, noting the way the others flinched back from the argument.

It was well-known that getting in the middle of a Merlin-Arthur feud was a big mistake.

‘Seriously? I’m not allowed to take a _walk_ with a man, but you’re allowed to sneak in women from Camelot’s streets when you think that nobody will notice?’

**

Merlin realised, belatedly, that he’d let his tongue run on far longer than he should of done.

Admittedly, it was more a thing that the _Prince_ would do, rather than the King that Merlin was so proud of. Still, Merlin had encountered women sneaking from Arthur’s Chambers on a handful of occasions over the year, usually after a heavy night of drinking.

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows almost hitting his hairline while Merlin sucked in air.

‘Sorry, Sire, I shouldn’t have…’

‘You _knew?_ ’ Was it supposed to be a secret? Merlin winced, looking around for support, before realising he wasn’t going to get it from the men, and lady, loyal to the King.

‘I’m your manservant, Arthur. You really think I didn’t know when you had company around? It’s me that has to change your bedsheets.’ Oh, he really had to stop, even he could hear the jealousy in his tone. Biting his tongue did little other than make him taste blood, watching Arthur’s face close off.

‘You never said anything.’

‘Again, manservant, royal.’ He gestured between them, noted Arthur’s frown.

‘You’re not my manservant now.’ Sometimes, Merlin forgot. He still bullied George for some of the chores, like waking Arthur or polishing his armour, occasionally taking the hunting dogs out.

‘I’m going to get some sleep.’ Merlin muttered, hating the way tears pricked at his eyes as he moved away from the fire, to one of the blankets he’d rolled out. He didn’t even have the cape, considering he’d left it for Arthur.

He wanted to hate him. He really did, because it would be so much _easier,_ but it was Arthur. Merlin couldn’t hate him, not even when he called out his reputation in front of their friends.

It didn’t help that the cold was sneaking in, nipping at his aching muscles, but he was too stubborn to move back to the fire. Too proud, to ask for the cape that he’d been wearing for most of the day.

The low murmuring from the fire was cut off by footsteps, Merlin refusing to look back when someone sat down beside him, before he heard Arthur exhale.

‘Don’t be an idiot. Here.’ Part of the cape, offered out as a peace offering.

Merlin turned to grab it, knowing Arthur would be able to see the fact his eyes were watery. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, simply let Merlin roll back away from him.

‘Forgive me.’

Merlin halted, sucking in air slowly, before quickly rolling over.

‘Are you sure you’re not sick? Did the stew poison you?’ Arthur laughed, actually laughed, head thumping back against the leaves as he did so.

‘Shut up, Merlin.’

‘Cabbage-head.’

‘Idiot.’

‘Clotpole.’

‘That’s still not a word.’ The King argued, Merlin ignoring him in favour of trying to sneak more of the cape.

‘Don’t make me put you in the stocks.’ He warned, making Merlin smile, not that the King could see.

‘Then who would you have to sass you?’ He pointed out, snuggling into the fabric.

The King didn’t answer, but Merlin knew he was smiling.


	3. Grapes and Shirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's crush is getting worse, and he doesn't want to hide

Unfortunately, the cold gave way to something worse. A sticky heat settled over Camelot, leaving Merlin exhausted but trying to complete his tasks for the upcoming Feast. It was supposed to be in honour of the summer festivities, filled with wine and dancing and music. Arthur was usually not a fan of such things, but Merlin was looking forward to it. For once, he wouldn’t be serving the King, would instead be _at his side._

It didn’t mean he wasn’t going to help the others, hence why he was currently in the courtyard, panting out hot air as George prattled on.

‘I can’t believe this! Can’t you just use your Magic?’ Merlin laughed, looking across to where Lady Guinevere was seated on the steps, bathing in the sunlight.

‘Sadly, my Magic is in use crafting Guinevere a dress.’ George frowned, looking back to the mess of grapes that had been imported.

They’d spilled from the wagon, barrels of wine seated up on the slats. Sefa was holding her skirts up, boots abandoned to the side as they waded through the mess, trying to figure out how best to sort it.

‘It’s so bloody hot.’ She grumbled, reaching for yet another piece of a broken barrel, while Merlin thanked the Gods for his short-sleeved shirt. His neckerchief was also gone, used to keep Sefa’s hair up, which meant he was feeling rather underdressed.

‘Perhaps if the lightest one of us went to the top of the Wagon?’ George had a point, admittedly. Not that Merlin would ever say that, considering this was the King’s manservant, a position he stole from Merlin.

George went to offer Sefa a hand, but before Merlin could point out that he was definitely not stable enough to lift her, the servant knocked the wine. Sefa gasped, jumping away, but not before it soaked the front of her dress, staining it a dark red and making the fabric slip down rapidly. She squeaked, George tried to stumble out an apology, and Merlin looked around for something to cover her.

‘I can go up to my room…’ Gwen began, but with Sefa’s hands clutching at her dress…

‘Here.’ Merlin stated, tugging his shirt up and over his head, before offering it out. His friend smiled thankfully, the Warlock turning his back to allow her to put it over her head, before turning back.

George was still staring.

‘Could I have a hand up?’ Sefa’s hand stretched out, polite, and Merlin ignored her hand to lift her up from her hips. She really was quite light, after all, and easy enough to place up on the wagon.

When he turned back to the steps, however, Lady Guinevere had gone.

**

‘Guinevere?’ The King looked up from his desk, ignoring the Knights as he stared to his friend.

‘I suggest you go to the Courtyard, Sire.’ She chimed, smiling innocently despite the twinkle in her eye that told him otherwise.

‘Why?’ He questioned, carefully, but he was returning his quill and standing up without her answer.

‘The wine spilled, Merlin’s shirtless, and George dropped Sefa.’

‘I’m sorry _what?!’_ Arthur wasn’t shouting, he was just speaking loudly over the sound of the Knights questioning Gwen’s sentence.

Arthur didn’t wait, deciding it was better to just go and see what was going on for himself. After all, it was his Kingdom, he had every right to walk briskly from his room. He didn’t run, it was just a coincidence that he started jogging, brushing aside the Guards gathered at the entrance to the Castle.

It was, in his defence, quite hard _not_ to notice Merlin. Partly because he was half-naked, barefoot with purple feet and slicked back hair, laughing as George failed yet again to get off of the floor.

He knew Merlin wasn’t built like a Knight. But he’d still filled out, pale skin and lithe muscles that Arthur realised he was staring at, narrowly avoiding falling down the stairs.

If Sir Leon had to catch him, the Knight didn’t point it out.

‘Merlin, why are my grapes all over the floor?’ He realised, belatedly, how that sounded. Luckily, Merlin was too busy laughing at George to understand, or see Gwaine making a rude gesture to Arthur.

‘I swear, Arthur, this wasn’t me!’ George was bowing, finally back on his feet, before Sefa’s head poked out from behind a barrel on the wagon.

‘And you’re scaring half of Camelot with your state of… dress.’ He vaguely gestured, lingering on where a thin trail of hair led down to the Warlock’s breeches.

‘You complain when I’m in armour, you complain when I’m undressed, how would you like me?’ He teased, rolling his eyes at Arthur while the King tried not to panic over the ending of that sentence.

‘Obeying my orders?’ Okay, in his defence… well. He wasn’t sure if he could defend himself, not when he’d just _said that_ with multiple witnesses.

Merlin just snorted.

‘Oh I’m sorry sire, my apologies.’ He even bowed, even if his eyes stayed on Arthur’s as he did so.

Fuck, Arthur needed to divert his eyes away from his undressed Warlock.

‘Get the barrels inside.’ He muttered, Merlin turning to the wagon.

‘C’mere.’ Arthur lingered, to watch as Merlin’s arms wrapped around Sefa’s legs, just _lifting her_ from the Wagon like she was weightless.

The girl laughed, patted his chest thankfully once she’d been put down.

‘Thanks, Merlin.’ She beamed, before picking up her boots and heading off towards the edge.

‘Watching to make sure I’m not drinking the juice?’ Merlin called him out, even if Arthur’s eyes were entirely focused on where Sefa’s hand had touched.

She did it so carefreely, with no concern for the fact that anyone could see, like it just didn’t matter! Arthur sighed, turning away from his Warlock and walking away.

**

‘Are you okay? You’ve been acting strangely.’ Arthur winced, looking over to where Merlin was placing his dinner down on the side.

He just couldn’t bring himself to get off the bed, sat there and stared down at his boots as he tried to figure out what was happening.

‘You looked good in armour.’ There, that was the truth. He hadn't been able to get that image out of his head, had been thinking about it since it happened.

Merlin choked, tripped, wide eyes darting across to where Arthur was sitting.

‘What?!’

‘That’s why I was acting strangely. You looked good.’

Merlin walked across to him, crouching down with a frown on his head.

‘Are you cursed? Poisoned? Ill?’ His hands stretched out, and Arthur snatched one.

‘Use your Magic. You tell me.’

Merlin was staring at their hands, clasped together in Arthur’s lap, before he hesitantly looked back up. Nervous, confused, and Arthur wondered how he’d ever managed to hide his affections for the Warlock.

‘Arthur?’

‘Come to the Feast with me. Sit by my side.’

‘You… Arthur, you know I’ll never say no to you.’ He murmured, looking just as terrified as Arthur felt.

‘My Warlock.’ The King stated, feeling the ache in his chest relax, finally.

Merlin’s smile had never been brighter.


End file.
